More Shameless Self-Promotion

In the hopes that I might get more reader feedback in response to my Shadow/Superman fan fiction story Shadows of Steel, I posted it on the FanFiction.net archive site. To go directly to my story, you can click this link, or you can go to the FanFiction.net main page, click on the "Movies" link, scroll through the list of movies until you find "Shadow," and click on it. Since my story is the most recent Shadow story posted, it will be at the top of the list. You can also find the story on my personal website.Hope you enjoy it!

Fan Fiction Follies

Having just completed my most elaborate piece of fan fiction to date ("fanfic" to those in the know) I found this set of items from the always interesting Eve Tushnet to be especially noteworthy. Eve links to:

• a FindLaw article on an organization trying to change the legal status of fanfic under U.S. copyright law;



• the response of her sister, an attorney and passionate defender of fan fiction, to that article;



• and to Eve's own thoughts on the subject.

I started writing fanfic myself while in graduate school as an antidote to the academic and theoretical bilge I was forced to read and regurgitate on exams and papers. I've loved it ever since. I think fans writing their own stories about characters from [insert name of your favorite TV shows, movies, books, etc. here] is a way for fans to take part ownership of characters they enjoy and become producers of culture and entertainment, rather than just passive consumers of whatever swill the corporate suits in New York and Hollywood want to feed us. While I think it would be unfair for fanfic writers to publish their work via conventional means and profit from it without acknowledging or paying royalties to the creators of the characters they borrowed, I can't see any harm in uploading your own stories of Captain Kirk or Mulder and Scully to a website and making them available for free. Write on!

Wollf at the Door

In other comment news, in response to my recent post on a blessing for beer from the Rituale Romanum, blogger Wollf, author of the Howling at the Moon blog wrote:

Amen.

First time visitor, nice house.
Wollf

Thanks, Wollf. Glad you like it. Come on in and have a look around. Come back often and tell your friends. It's nice to know somebody besides me reads this blog every once in a while.

More on Access Israel

My mention of Access Israel, an Israeli disability rights and advocacy organization, in my last post brought this comment from reader Tomer, who wrote:

Hi Niall,

I'm a volunteer working for Access Israel. In fact, increased awareness as well as new legislation has greatly improved the accessibility situation in Israel.
Almost all tourist sites have a reasonable level of accessibility for people with disabilities.
If you like, Access Israel can help you plan you visit.
Contact me at tomerto@yahoo.com for more details.

Cheers,

Tomer

Shalom, Tomer! I'm glad to know that my previous impression of limited access to tourist sites and other locations in Israel for people with disabilities was incorrect. I would love to visit your country, and maybe one day, God willing, I will have the opportunity.

The comment feature that allows bloggers and their readers to enter into conversation like this is one advantage of a blog over a traditional journal, isn't it?

Memed by The Maximum Leader

KT Cat, Maximum Leader of the Feline Theocracy and principal author of The Scratching Post blog, has tagged us with a meme here at It's All Straw. Participants in the "Week, Month, Year, Half-Your-Life" Meme are to pick four places on the globe and explain where they would spend a week, a month, a year, and half of their lives. After some careful thought and in full and total obedience to the command of the Maximum Leader, I herewith submit my choices:

A Week - Rome

I told you I was Catholic, right?

A Month - Ireland

I was fortunate enough to get to go to Scotland for a week, when I was in college, but I've never been to Ireland. Since about half my ancestors were Scots and half were Irish, I'm missing a connection to about half of my heritage!

A Year - Israel

















The Holy Land. The land of kings and prophets. The land where Jesus walked. Bethlehem. Jerusalem. Golgotha. The empty tomb. Places I've only read about in the Bible. Almost 'nuff said. But when I was doing a Google Image search for pictures of Israel, this image caught my eye. It's a "badge of honor" awarded by an organization called Access Israel to Israeli businesses, government agencies, and tourist attractions that make a special effort to ensure that their facilities are accessible to those with disabilities. I gather from the information on Access Israel's website that access to public facilities and full participation in daily life is still fairly rare for Israelis with disabilities.

Half My Life - Myrtle Beach, SC*



For this one, I'm going to cheat a little bit and name the place where I actually did spend nearly half my life--Myrtle Beach, SC and environs, the coast of South Carolina. Like KT, I'm a beach bum at heart because I grew up just over the hill from the beach, and when I was younger my idea of the perfect summer day was one where I could swim, lie in the sun, build sandcastles, and play in the dunes. I'm going to cheat a little bit more and say that it's the Myrtle Beach of my memory--hence the asterisk--and not the battery powered, neon-lit, plastic-coated Babylon it's become. I grew up there in the 1970s, which was probably the last generation before it became a major tourist and retirement mecca. It was still a fairly small town frequented and populated mainly by people from North and South Carolina. The beach was always the main attraction, and people who came to visit it stayed mostly in beach houses and Mom-and-Pop motels, not sprawling, soulless mega-condos as they do now. My Dad was involved in an ad hoc citizen's group trying to keep such behemoths out of our neighborhood. With his usual talent for exaggeration, he used to say that our parish church was built for the tourists, but in the off-season, the entire Catholic population of Myrtle Beach could fit in the first two pews. Ah, the good ol' days!

I digress from the meme! By the authority vested in me, I do hereby tag Mark Mossa at And I Let Myself Be Duped, Louise at Purcell's Chicken Voluntary, and D. G. D. Davidson at Sci-Fi Catholic. So there.

Test of New Keyboard

This is a test:

Mary had a little lamb,
Whose fleece was white as snow
and everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.

This is being typed on a new Kensington SlimType keyboard for Macintosh. My cleaning lady expressed an interest in my old iMac G3 for her nephew, and since I was using the old keyboard, I figured I would get a new keyboard for myself and give her the G3, old keyboard and all. Unfortunately, the new keyboard does not have its own USB port for a mouse, but with a little juggling, I was able to rearrange my USB hub satisfactorily and allow me access to my mouse, printer, and digital camera cable. The new keyboard has "short fall" keys like those of a laptop, so it has a very light touch, unlike my old keyboard. That will take some getting used to, but overall, I expect many happy hours of typing from the new device.

Mmmm . . . Beeeer . . . Sanctified!

A blessing for beer from the Rituale Romanum:

Bene+dic, Domine, creaturam istam cerevisae, quam ex adipe frumenti producere dignatus es: ut sit remedium salutare humano generi: et praesta per invocationem nominis tui sancti, ut, quicumque ex ea biberint, sanitatem corporis, et animae tutelam percipiant. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.

Bless, O Lord, this creature beer, that Thou hast been pleased to bring forth from the sweetness of the grain: that it might be a salutary remedy for the human race: and grant by the invocation of Thy holy name, that, whosoever drinks of it may obtain health of body and a sure safeguard for the soul. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Hat Tips: Thomas Peters at American Papist, via D. G. D. Davidson at Sci-Fi Catholic.

To Boldly Go Where No Pope Has Gone Before

The Curt Jester has photographs and commentary on the altar furnishings that will be used when Pope Benedict visits Washington, D.C. later this year. Here's the design:



CJ says they look to him as if they might be appropriate for a certain 23rd-century starship captain, much beloved around these parts. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Successor of Peter, The Supreme Pontiff of the Universal Church, the Vicar of Christ, The Servant of the Servants of God:


His Holiness, Pope Kirk I

Commenting on the general look of the chairs and ambo, CJ asks: "Maybe IKEA is now designing liturgical furniture?"

After visiting one parish in particular, I might be inclined to think so. The altar and ambo have a distinctly minimalist butcher-block look to them. You have to use a magnifying glass to find the Stations of the Cross, and when I asked where the Tabernacle was, my guide pointed down a side hall. If I were Pope Kirk, I'd order a full spread of phasers and photon torpedoes on the place and start over.

Everything Old . . .

is new again. Yes, I've changed the template . . . again. Never did really like that pale blue. I guess green is more my color. But this layout is the one I used when I first started blogging way back in the Dark Ages of 2004 with a long-defunct effort called "Falling Off a Blog." It lasted for only a few entries before I got tired of it, moved on to other things, and later came back to blogging in the Spring of 2005 with IAS. Y'know, since this is more or less a Catholic blog, I could change the color scheme every few months to reflect the liturgical season: green for Ordinary Time, purple for Lent and Advent, red for Pentecost, white for feast days . . . Nah!

OK, Now This Is Just Creepy

It's ironic.

Just after I finish posting a piece expressing a certain ambivalence towards the science fiction genre, along comes Ray Kurzweil proposing stuff that sounds like science fiction and leading me to conclude that I have good reason to feel ambivalent about science and technology. Mr. Kurzweil invented the first text-to-speech reader for the blind, a line of high-end music synthesizers, computer hardware and software designed to enhance human creativity, and a host of other pretty cool gadgets all built around the concept of artificial intelligence, or teaching machines to do what people can do. If I remember correctly, he was also the guy who once referred to conventional libraries (y' know, the old-fashioned kind with real books and stuff) as "museums of compressed wood pulp," or words to that effect.

OK, so Mr. Kurzweil is apparently not a big fan of printed books and is a big booster of high technology. That's fine. Everybody's entitled to an opinion. We all have our likes and dislikes, right?

But now, some of the things Mr. Kurzweil is advocating, proposing, and forecasting for technological advances just give me the heebie-jeebies and bring out my inner Dr. McCoy. On the original Star Trek show, every time Mr. Spock would rhapsodize about the glories of logic and science and the supposed infallibility of the ship's computers, McCoy would lose his patience and blurt out something like, "It's a blasted machine, Spock! You can't argue with a machine!" McCoy is the voice of the humanist, warning us that we risk losing a little something of our humanity and our liberty every time we allow our machines to do our thinking and acting for us.

Mr, Kurzweil, on the other hand, apparently thinks it's just fine to let our machines think and act for us, since he says that in a few years we'll not only make increasing use of technology, we'll actually merge (his word) with our technology. In a few years, the machines will be as smart as we are, anyway, if not smarter. Here's what he says in a conversation with host and interviewer Steve Curwood on the public radio show Living on Earth:

CURWOOD: But what excites him most is what he sees over the horizon now. What he calls 'the singularity.' And what does he mean by that?

KURZWEIL: Well, it primarily refers to our merging with our technology and greatly expanding our human potential. Literally the word refers to a profound transformation. And here we're using it in a context of human history, in that there will be a great transformation of human society. I put it around twenty forty-five. Where we will greatly expand our capabilities by merging with our technology. And to be a little more specific, by the late twenty-twenties we'll have both the hardware and the software to create machines that are at human levels of intelligence. We've already modeled and simulated twenty different regions of the brain. And we can test those simulations and they perform equivalently to human performance of those brain regions. And the hardware will be quite capable of actually being much more powerful than the human brain.

CURWOOD: So you're saying in the next twenty-five years—

KURZWEIL: Right.

CURWOOD: The machines will be as smart as we are?

KURZWEIL: Right . . .

And the hardware will be quite capable of actually being much more powerful than the human brain.

Apparently, he thinks this will be a good thing! Is anyone else as creeped out by this idea as I am? What happens when tools become smarter and more powerful than their masters? Who then is the tool and who is the master?

I realize I'm beginning to sound a bit like a paranoid Luddite here. I'm not. I'm obviously using a computer to compose this blog entry. I just finished uploading some fiction to a website where anyone and his brother can read it if they so choose. I listen to podcasts almost compulsively. As I write this, I'm sitting in an electric wheelchair that gives me infinitely more freedom and mobility than I would have otherwise. I have pacemaker or cerebellar stimulator to compensate for some of the effects of my cerebral palsy. I have cable TV and a home stereo system, like most other Americans. Obviously then, I don't hate technology on principle. It's just that I like a little distance between my self--my soul, my being, that certain something that defines me as a unique human being created in the image and likeness of God--and any tools I use. I'm not sure I'm ready to go from this:



to this:



I'm not sure the future Mr. Kurzweil is proposing would allow me that distance, however:

So, my vision of what life will be like in the late twenty-twenties, is we will have millions of these nano-bots inside our blood stream. They'll be keeping us healthy from inside, repairing DNA errors, removing debris, killing cancer cells, augmenting the immune system.

.


Ahem. Ray? Mr. Kurzweil, sir? Just what is a "DNA error?" Is it, say, Parkinson's Disease or Down's Syndrome or cystic fibrosis? Or could it be something like not having blond hair, blue eyes, and an Aryan perfect physique? Not being fast enough or strong enough or pretty enough? Just who is to decide what a "DNA error" is, and how the nano-bots are to correct it? Have you not considered the gross potential for abuse with such a technology? And what happens if one (or more) of these little nano-bot thingies goes on the blink? But everything's going to be swell in Kurzweil-land 'cause we all know that scientists are perfect and technology never malfunctions or has unintended negative consequences, right? Hearing talk like this, I'm reminded of Mark Shea's observation that all of history can be divided into two phases: "What can it hurt?" followed by "How was I supposed to know?"

But wait, there's more! Coming soon to a cerebral cortex near you: Virtual Reality!

One thing it can do, for example, is provide full-immersion virtual reality from within the nervous system. So, if we want to go into virtual reality, the nanobots shut down the signals coming from your real sensors, replacing them with the signals that your brain would be receiving if you were in the virtual environment. Then your brain feels like it's in that environment. You go to move your hand, it moves your virtual hand. Design of new virtual environments will be a new art form. But mostly it's going to actually extend human intelligence, which arguably computers do today even if most of them are not yet inside our bodies and brains.

So this guy thinks the world of M. T. Anderson's Feed would be a good thing, I suppose: a world of virtual zombies, occupying the same physical space, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually isolated from each other. But hey, it's not all bad--they can still shop, shop, shop!

The last sentence of the quotation is so rich in irony, it's almost like a punchline:

But mostly it's going to actually extend human intelligence, which arguably computers do today

Arguably, indeed. They obviously haven't done much for your brain power, fella.


even if most of them are not yet inside our bodies and brains.

Yes, and please God, may they remain so! Sheesh! This guy is living proof that being educated is not the same thing as being smart and being smart is not the same thing as being wise.

"Shadows of Steel" Now Available!

Fans of Old-Time Radio
Fans of Pulp Fiction
Fans of Classic Comics
Ladies and Gentlemen . . .

Your Attention Please . . .

Thrilling Tales, the online pulp magazine
and
It's All Straw, the blog

Proudly Present . . .

Shadows of Steel: A Shadow/Superman Adventure

This is an all-new adventure in the classic style featuring two of the greatest heroes from The Golden Age of comics, pulp fiction, and old-time radio: Superman and The Shadow:

It is 1938. Lamont Cranston, The Shadow, has been kidnapped. Margo Lane appeals to her sister Lois Lane for help in finding Lamont, unaware that the old flame who has re-entered her life is at the center of the kidnap plot! Only the Man of Steel can save the Master of Darkness, and only the two heroes together can save a nation on the brink of war! Don't miss all the action in Shadows of Steel!

I had the basic idea for this story years ago when I realized the simple, blindingly obvious fact that Superman's girlfriend, Lois Lane, and The Shadow's girlfriend, Margo Lane, had the same last name. What if Lois and Margo Lane were related? Would that bring the two men, the two superheroes in their lives together? Of course it would! This story was the result. I've been working on it over a year now, and it's finally here! Do go read it and tell me what you think. Tell your friends, your relations, and complete strangers if necessary, about this story if you think they would like it. Since it involves two copyrighted and licensed characters, I can't possibly publish it via conventional means without being sued down to my last nickel for copyright infringement. So, like millions of other fan fiction or "fanfic" writers, I'm putting it up on the Web absolutely free for you good people to read and, I hope, to enjoy. Please send me feedback at: "niallmor at earthlink dot net," only replace the dot and the at as appropriate. (You know the drill). Cheerio!

Back to the Future!

I have a love/hate relationship with science fiction. I love the sense of wonder and possibility, the thrill of "exploring strange new worlds" and "seeking out new life and new civilizations" in the immortal words of Star Trek. On the other hand, I hate the dark, violent, nihilistic strain that runs through a lot of science fiction: the strain that says everything in the universe, including humanity, is just a product of mindless, soulless evolution; that says violence is the natural order of things; that says God and religion are just ignorant superstition; and that says given enough time and enough knowledge, human beings will completely understand the things of God, or in a sense, become gods themselves. This is a complex topic, and I won't try to unpack all my thoughts on it here; but I have been listening to a lot of classic, early science fiction lately, and I've found plenty to both love and hate. I'm thinking of writing something that harkens back to those early pioneers of the genre, such as Jules Verne, H. G. Wells, and Edgar Rice Burroughs. I've learned that this deliberately retrograde style of SF has even acquired a name--"steampunk."

I grew up on Star Trek and Star Wars, so tales of starships, super weapons, beautiful alien maidens, green bug-eyed monsters, and "boldly going where no man has gone before" have always had a certain appeal. The longest piece of fiction I've ever written was in fact a Star Wars/Star Trek: Deep Space Nine crossover story that you can find here. I've also written one straight Star Trek story that you can find here, and I have several other unfinished fiction projects on my hard drive that have a distinct SF flavor. I discovered Edgar Rice Burroughs's tales of Barsoom (as much swashbuckling romance as SF) several years ago and enjoyed them thoroughly. I listen regularly to Steve Eley's Escape Pod and Escape Pod Classic podcasts which feature short stories by both new and established SF writers. The latter show features stories that are more "family-friendly" for parents and other listeners that are concerned about explicit violence or sexually suggestive material.

Recently, however, I had a hankering to go back to the very roots of the genre--to read or hear the stories of Burroughs, H. G. Wells and Jules Verne. I suppose this was motivated in part by the news that Pixar is developing an animated version of Burroughs's Martian stories, and by hearing an audio version of Ann Leckie's short story "Hesperia and Glory", an affectionate tribute to those same Martian tales, on Escape Pod, episode 131. Since then, I've listened to podcast versions of Princess of Mars by Burroughs, War of the Worlds by Wells, and The Lost World by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. (In addition to creating Sherlock Holmes, Doyle also wrote tales of adventure, suspense, and horror fiction.) I'm also plowing through the podcast version of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Seas by Jules Verne. The text for this last book is based on a new translation of Verne's original French text by F. P. Walter of the University of Houston, that you can find, very handsomely illustrated, here.

I say I'm "plowing" through Verne because the author insists on larding his text with lots of extraneous facts and figures that do little or nothing to advance the plot: summaries of previous ocean expeditions, tediously detailed explanations of how the Nautilus works, its average depth, cruising speed, and distance traveled, Latin names of plants and animals encountered, etc. Like the nerdy kid who just can't resist showing off every aspect of his winning science project, Verne just can't let any of his background and technical data go to waste. Another problem with this podcast version, as with many LibriVox recordings, is that it's read in round robin style, with different readers recording different chapters or different blocs of chapters. This is disconcerting for the listener who has to constantly adjust to different rhythms of speech, different accents, different pronunciations, and different levels of drama and expressiveness in the reading.

The reading for War of the Worlds is much better. The single reader, who choses to remain anonymous, reads the story in what I would guess is a middle class London or Surrey accent, appropriately professorial and matter-of-fact for the narrator, but able to reproduce the accents of working class people such as soldiers and tradesmen accurately. It's easy to read The War of the Worlds as a protest against late Victorian smugness, complacency, and class consciousness, and a reader who can bring these things out in his reading is an added bonus. It also struck me when listening to this reading that Wells constantly peppers his text with place names that an American might mispronounce and which would have added an extra level of verisimilitude and made his tale even more terrifying to a British audience. Just imagine how disturbing it would be if you sat down to read a fanciful story of an alien invasion, but the invaders were moving inexorably through real towns near you.

I don't know what will come out of all this reading and ruminating--I hope some good writing on my part--but it has been fun to travel back to the future and share with you what I've discovered.

Macaroni Madness

moar funny pictures

Last week, I reported on my efforts to make minestrone using a crock pot my sister had given me. This weekend, I made macaroni and cheese using a recipe my sister clipped from the newspaper. Here it is:

Cooking oil spray
1 1/2 cups skim milk
1 can (15 oz.) skim evaporated milk
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1 1/2 cups pre-shredded sharp cheddar cheese
2 cups (8 oz.) uncooked elbow macaroni

Spray the pot of the slow cooker with cooking oil spray. Measure the skim milk into a 4-cup or larger glass [or?] container. Add the evaporated milk, egg, salt, and pepper and mix well with a wire whisk or fork. Pour the milk mixture into the crock. Add the cheese and macaroni. Stir gently to mix.

Turn the slow cooker on low for 3 1/2-4 hours or until the custard is set in the center and the macaroni is tender. (Do not cook longer than 4 hours, or the sides will begin to dry out and burn.) Serve at once.

Serves 4 as a main dish or 6 as a side dish.

Hat Tip to my friend Bill who purchased the ingredients.

The recipe as written seemed to call for the ingredients to be mixed "in a 4-cup or larger glass container." I couldn't see why the container needed to be glass; I mixed the ingredients in a large plastic bowl, and everything came out fine. I thought maybe the reference to a glass container was a typo. The salt and pepper are completely optional. I didn't have any handy, but it still came out fine.

My sister and I collaborated on the minestrone, but the mac and cheese was my first solo effort as a cook. I know I should have provided photographic evidence of this stupendous feat, but I was having too much fun eating it. The cat tells the story. Bon appétit!

Fun with the Fab Four

Much as my sister's crock pot was a "delayed action" gift (one I'd had for awhile but didn't use until recently) I just found another gift that I'd forgotten about somewhat: A large collection of Beatles CDs that my brother made for me. I've enjoyed the Beatles' music for as long as I can remember, and a couple of years ago, when my brother mentioned that his own daughter had discovered the Lads from Liverpool, he also mentioned he had a rather large stash of Beatles' tunes.

"Gee," I said, "I'd like to hear that."

"I'll make you copies," he said.

I thought no more about it until sometime later when a largish package showed up in the mail bearing a rather complete sampling of the works of Messrs. John, Paul, George, and Ringo.

"Gee," I said, "I'll have to listen to those."

But by then, my musical tastes had moved in other directions and I was preoccupied with other things, so all those classic tunes got shoved to the back of the CD collection, where they were—as things shoved toward the back of anything unfortunately tend to be—largely forgotten. However, as I was looking for some background music for my sister's visit this weekend, I stumbled upon this treasure trove of blasts from the past. I also remembered the cool little feature on iTunes that will generate playlists automatically and create "jewel case" sized inserts with a track listing and clip art of your choice. Thanks to the good people at iTunes, those humdrum little discs now have custom artwork for their cases, and it's easier for me to tell what songs are on each one.

It's groovy, man!

Crock Pot Capers

Here's what I had for lunch today. My sister and I made it Sunday afternoon in the crock pot she gave me several Christmases back. Tasty!



As I mentioned, my sister gave me the slow cooker several Christmases ago, but being fundamentally a bachelor, a lazy slug and a somewhat kitchen-phobic guy, I put off making anything and kept shoving it to the back of the closet. When Susan came to visit this weekend, we decided the time had come for a cooking class. We found a minestrone recipe from the Fix -It and Forget-It Cookbook (p. 68) that looked promising and set to work. My sister made stock from bouillon and chopped the onions, but I dumped in the other ingredients from cans, bags of frozen vegetables, and a box of spaghetti. I think we substituted garlic powder for garlic cloves and some pre-mixed Italian spices for the basil, oregano, and a bay leaf. How could I have missed this? Dump the ingredients in a pot and cook them for several hours until until they're done? Even I can do that! And it's a pleasure to have a meal that didn't come out of a cardboard box with Healthy Choice™ or Lean Cuisine™ on the side. Take that, evil corporate agribusiness military-industrial-food complex! Now where did I put that microwave cookbook?

Pictures At An Exhibition

This is what happens when you give a guy a digital camera for Christmas.

He takes pictures of his brother's Christmas tree:




He takes pictures of a tree outside his apartment:



He takes pictures of his sister and her dog:



Expect more photo blogging in the future!

The Price Is Right!

Dale Price of Dyspeptic Mutterings reports:

Louis George Price was born today at 1:58 pm. He is 7 pounds, 3 oz and is 20 inches long. Mom and baby are doing well.

America must need lerts, because The Boy 2.0™ is quite alert. He's also a shameless charmer. Photos to follow.

Huzzah! Woo hoo! Deo gratias! Unto us a child is born! (No, not THAT one!) Congratulations, Dale and Heather!

Molto Bene!

As somebody who's descended from Irish, Scots, and Germans, I was pleasantly surprised by this:

Your Inner European is Italian!

Passionate and colorful. You show the world what culture really is.

Who's Your Inner European?

I've always secretly loved the Italians. They know how to live. I've often said that my soul is Celtic, but my taste buds are Italian. I've also said that God gave the Italians great food and the Celts great music, because if God gave the Celts great food and great music, the Celts would rule the world, and that would be unfair to everyone else :). Ciao, bella!

Searching for Dad, Finding a Career Direction

Recently I mentioned wanting to find out more about what my father did during World War II. I've submitted requests for Dad's service records to the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis (so far I've come up empty), and nosed about on the internet trying to see what I could find. Earlier this spring, Ancestry.com, normally a pay-for-access site, announced they were making their military records databases available to search for free for a limited time. I searched and turned up an enlistment record for Dad, but without a serial number. A Google search for Dad's old unit, "U. S. Ninth Air Force in World War II" turned up the marvelously useful United States Army Air Forces in World War II site, where veterans, children and grandchildren of veterans, researchers, and military history buffs can ask questions and gather and share information. I cannot say enough good things about this site and the people who contribute to it! Within just a few days they had graciously and courteously answered many of my questions, provided information I didn't have, and pointed me in new directions for research, including a database of Army enlistment records (with serial numbers) administered by the National Archives and Records Administration, and useful Wikipedia pages on the history, organization, and nomenclature of the U. S. Air Force in general and the Ninth Air Force in particular. With the help of these fine people I learned that the predecessor of the present U. S. Air Force was the U. S. Army Air Forces (plural), and that there is a difference between the U. S. Army Air Forces and the U. S. Army Air Corps. I was most impressed when veterans answered my queries. Often they would sign their postings with their rank, their unit, and the dates of their service. I am in awe of these men: their courage, their sacrifice, their humility, and their willingness to share what they remember. I know what they tell me is accurate because they were there to see it--and my father was one of them.

All this exploration and discovery of what happened to my father (what I've dubbed "the Dad project") has made me realize that I might want to become what is variously called an information broker, an independent researcher, or an independent information professional. These are people who will plan and conduct searches for information (often highly specialized) in conventional and electronic sources, distill and package the information, and present the results of their search to the client for a fee. Many have library science degrees, as I do, but some don't. The largest professional association of information brokers is the Association of Independent information Professionals, which I've joined as a prospective (free) member. I'm working my way through a bibliography of articles about the profession and know I want to read more. I've ordered three books on the subject that are frequently cited in the literature and are considered essential reading for anyone thinking about the IB business.

This is a new and potentially exciting career direction for me. This is problem solving, investigation, detective work and creativity--the kind of work I wanted to do when I decided to become a librarian in the first place. I want to see where this path leads. I hope Dad would be proud of me for following it.

Well Said, Rich!

NOTE: This is an edited version of an earlier post.

For some time now I've been wanting to blog about Pope Benedict's recent motu proprio Summorum pontificum authorizing a wider use of the Latin form of the Mass as promulgated by Blessed Pope John XXIII in 1962 (Variously referred to as "the Traditional Latin Mass," the Tridentine Rite, and now by Pope Benedict, the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite). Several blogs I keep an eye on, including Patrick Archbold's Summorum pontificum blog and Father Z.'s What Does The Prayer Really Say? have been tracking the reactions of various priests and bishops around the world (which range from "Sounds like a great idea!" to "Hell no! Not in my parish/diocese!")I'd been having trouble putting my own thoughts into words, however until I ran across this post from the estimable Rich Leonardi, in which he reacts to a Missouri pastor's concerted effort to badmouth the Traditional Latin Mass.

The pastor writes:

I think that Pope Benedict’s decree reviving the old Latin Mass was a step backwards in the implementation of the decrees of the Second Vatican Council, which were approved and promoted by Pope Paul VI. The Council never intended there to be two forms of the Roman rite simultaneously. Latin at Mass, yes, but the old rite stemming back to the 16th century, clearly no. To keep a group of objectors in the Church, Pope John Paul gave permission to have the old Mass on a very limited scale in 1984, despite the nearly unanimous opposition of the bishops throughout the world. Now, Pope Benedict has given permission to go over the heads of the bishops as long as a “stably existing” community requests the old Mass an the pastors can prevent a disruption in their communities. The Council clearly wanted to give such power to the bishops, but in this too the Council’s teaching is being reversed.

Rich responds:

The thing is, I don't pine for the extraordinary form. While I welcome Pope Benedict's call for its expanded use, my preference is for a reverently-celebrated ordinary form that is faithful to the G.I.R.M., Sacrosanctum Concilium, and various papal instructions, rare as that species of Mass is. But nasty, dishonest, and disrespectful "reflections" from would-be popes are making me curious about what I'm missing. In other words, if people like this hate the extraordinary form so much, it must have something going for it. And I'll wager I'm not the only one thinking this way.

Well said, Rich! It seems to me that if Catholics are serious about the Second Vatican Council's declaration that "the eucharistic sacrifice is the source and the summit of the whole of the Church's worship and of the Christian life," we ought to celebrate that eucharistic sacrifice with as much beauty and dignity and reverence as we can muster. My mother once complained that a church we used to attend reminded her of "a K-Mart with pews." As Catholics, we believe (or we ought to believe) that in the Mass Jesus Christ himself comes among us and offers us his very Body and Blood! Shouldn't that moment be just a little more special than a trip to K-Mart? Shouldn't that moment be sacred? Shouldn't that moment be holy? If the use of Latin, ad orientem worship, Gregorian chant, and polyphony help us to make the Mass more sacred and more holy, then I say BRING THEM ON!

I was born in 1963, smack dab in the middle of Vatican II, so I have no memory of of the Traditional Latin Mass or how things used to be "back in the good old days." This is not a nostalgia trip for me, and it shouldn't be for the rest of the Church either. Simply saying, "Gee, remember the old Latin Mass, wasn't it swell?" will not do. If advocates for the wider celebration of the Traditional Latin Mass are to have any success, they must convince Catholics my age and younger that the this form of the Mass still has something good and beautiful and worthwhile to give to the Church (and I firmly believe it does). I think perhaps one of the best ways to persuade people of the beauty and value of the extraordinary form is to let people hear the great music the Traditional Latin Mass inspired. I, for example, am gaining an appreciation of the Traditional Latin Mass, "through the back door" so to speak, because I've discovered polyphony and the musical form that preceded it, Gregorian chant. If music this good was inspired by and created for the Traditional Latin Mass, then, as Rich says, the extraordinary form must have something going for it. Hearing Tallis and Byrd and Palestrina and Victoria has made me realize just how shallow and cheesy much of the ersatz '60s and '70s "folk music" I grew up on really is. Younger Catholics are being cheated out of their precious musical and liturgical heritage by not even having the opportunity to hear and appreciate this glorious music.

As for me, away with the cardboard and the bubblegum! Give me a liturgy that is truly reverent and dignified and beautiful, one with uncompromising proclamation of the Word of God, sound preaching, and inspiring music that lifts my mind and heart to God and is truly "a promise and foretaste of the paschal feast of heaven" as one of the eucharistic prayers says.

Picture Credit: Traditional Latin Mass being celebrated at St. John Neumann parish, Diocese of Knoxville, Tennessee.